


Unhappy Returns

by BellaMortis



Series: Trope Bingo - Round 3 [8]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU - Alternate Gender Roles, Alpha Tony Stark, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, First Time, M/M, NOT Omega Loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-07
Updated: 2014-05-07
Packaged: 2018-01-23 20:55:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1579247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BellaMortis/pseuds/BellaMortis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>-Continuation of <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1549898">"Culture Shock"</a>.</p><p>Loki used to have it good, considering he had been thought dead while ruling Asgard under a different face.  He never thought he would end back up on Midgard, with its weird sexual dynamics.  He especially hadn't thought he would end up beaten, drained of magic, and stuck being saved by an annoying hero like a damsel in distress.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unhappy Returns

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Anything trademarked is not mine. Just the embarrassing situations.
> 
> As promised, here is the continuation of "Culture Shock". This was written for the "First Time/Last Time" square on my card. Obviously, I went with the first option, because it is much more fun to write. It also didn't end up as crack-tastic as the first story. Strange, I know, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.
> 
> Next up should be the continuation of "Mixed Signals", which is actually ending up more crack-tastic than this one. Go figure.

For the first time in a long time, Loki didn’t know what to do.  There were no contingencies in place.  He had no schemes in motion - that could be reached from his current location, anyway.  No allies waited in the wings to aid him, all favors either used up or the debtors so far away as to be useless.  

 

From what he could tell, he was completely and utterly out of options.

 

He’d had no wish to end up back on Midgard after his rather inglorious exit, but it seemed that the Norns were taking great pleasure in pushing him to his limits, most likely laughing all the way.

 

Loki used to have it good.  Thought dead, ruling in Odin’s guise, Asgard had actually granted him  the respect he felt he deserved.  Not only that, he used to have a throne.  Sure, he had told Thor that the throne was not what he wanted, but being contrary was in his nature, so he had rather liked sitting once more on the same one that he had coveted for so long.  

 

Until it got boring, anyway.  That was probably why he made the mistake that started the whole mess off to begin with.

 

It only took one servant catching him unaware, and then events snowballed until he finally ended up on Midgard, hunted, bloody, nearly drained of magic aside from the bit he was using to remain invisible to Heimdall’s all seeing eye, and with no where left to turn.

 

Worst of all, the place still reeked.  Loki’s face curled up in disgust.

 

Of all places, in all the realms, why did it have to be Midgard?

 

From what Loki could tell, he had also ended up in the worst location possible.  It appeared to be an extremely dim alley, damp from the rain that was falling around him and strewn with trash.  Despite this, Loki could still smell the teeming mass of humanity from the streets further out.

 

According to his estimates, he had ended up in the city that he had focused his attack on.  He hadn’t specifically planned on it, focused as he was on not dying before taking the jump, and he was still debating if it was it was yet another horrible misfortune or not.

 

Either way, he was now damp and miserable in a place that he still kind of hated, and his only choices were to make the most of it or find an easily guarded corner to mope in.

 

Loki had been leaning toward the second option when he came across the four thugs.  All of them were large for mortals, and their almost evilly gleeful grins were caught as slightly brighter slashes.

 

Even though the rain was trying its hardest to defuse their scent, Loki’s nose still twitched.

 

“Well, well, what do we have here?” the one in front, obviously the leader, said.  He sniffed the air as he stalked closer.  “No scent at all.  Expensive treatments, those, and only for one purpose.”  The tone changed to something dangerously teasing.  “Did the little Omega slip their rich master’s leash?”

 

Oh, Norns, not this again.  Loki rolled his eyes and summoned a dagger.  With his seiðr already weakened, it took much more effort than he had expected.  “I suggest you do not come any closer,” he said, voice low and threatening.

 

It didn’t seem to work.  “Or you’ll what?  Cringe in a corner like others of your kind?”  The leader’s laughter set off the others’.  

 

“No,” Loki said patiently, “I was thinking more along the lines of relieving you of your entrails  and feeding them to you.”

 

The laughter stopped for an incredulous moment, before starting up again even harder than before.  The leader’s eyes flashed from the small amount of light available, as did the weapons the group drew.  From the shine, it looked like they were carrying daggers as well.  “Well, bring it on, then, sweetcheeks.”  Another chuckle.  “If you can.”

 

Loki couldn’t help smiling.

 

***

 

Loki was whistling cheerfully as he left the alley behind.  Although the bout was short and the enemy easy enough that a child of the Aesir would have been able to handle themselves admirably, it still felt good to have something go his way.

 

Besides, he never could resist free knives.

 

Of course, his joy was short-lived, because the moment he stepped into the well-lit street, tossing one of the new weapons from hand to hand, there was a scream.  Looking toward the sound, Loki found a group of mortals all staring at him wide-eyed.  

 

He glanced down at himself, noticing all the blood and the fact that, yes, he hadn’t even thought of attempting to cover himself with a glamour.  Oh.

 

A bright light caused him to look back at the group.  It seemed that two of them, both women whose floral perfume wafted over and tried to choke him, had pulled out strange rectangular objects and were holding them up in front of their faces.  More lights came from both devices, one after the other.

 

Loki tilted his head in confusion.

 

The area was very crowded, and others were starting to gather around.  As the mortals got a good look at his face, Loki could see the fear appearing, including on the features of the ones that had their eyes darken ever so slightly from his presence.  

 

Voices started calling out, the most obvious calling out for the same saviors of last time.

 

The word Avengers crossed the lips of more than one person.

 

Loki sneered.  It was still a stupid title.

 

At his expression, the mortals around backed away, some even fleeing.

 

Loki gave a pleased hum, and started playing with the knife again.

 

Even more scattered.

 

Well, then.  Maybe he could just -

 

No.

 

Loki sighed.  Sure, it was amusing baiting the mortals, but he would rather find a place to hide.  He was exhausted, and his seiðr wouldn’t be regained as he overextended himself.

 

It took some effort, but he managed to pull up an illusion, aiming to make it as though he had just disappeared.  Carefully maneuvering, he slid back down the alley just long enough to change his looks as he should have before.  He could tell it was the last working that he would be able to do for a while, though, since it physically hurt as the drew the seiðr to do his bidding.  

 

After he was sure that the glamour was reasonably stable, he moved back out of the alley, avoiding the crowd that was still gathered there, and started down the street.

 

He needed to find secure lodging.  It was a pity that the one he chose ended up not being as secure as he thought.

 

***

 

It was Tony’s dumb luck that he was already suited up, testing a new upgrade, when JARVIS’ voice cut through the music that blared in his lab.  “Sir, there has been an incident reported over at 220 South Street.”

 

Tony flexed his fingers, checking to make sure the servos were still responding smoothly to commands.  “What kind?”

 

“Dr. Doom has been sighted attacking an unknown at a storage facility.  The authorities are calling for Avengers back-up, Sir.”

 

Tony blinked.  “Damn.  Tell them I’m on it.”  He signed as the face plate slid down.  It was not how he had wanted to spend his Saturday night.  “What is the status of the rest of the team?”

 

“Captain Rogers states that his and Mr. Odinson’s ETA is twenty minutes minimum, and Mr. Barton and Ms. Romanoff have not checked in since yesterday afternoon.  Lastly, as you know, sir, Mr. Banner has been unreachable for weeks.”

 

So, Tony could count on Steve and Thor, with a check in the ‘maybe’ column for Clint and Natasha.  He also knew that he could make it over there much quicker.  “Tell the Dynamic Blonde Duo that I’ll meet them there.  I can make it in five.”

 

“Will do, sir.”

 

As Tony flew, he wondered exactly why Doom was attacking someone at a storage facility.  The fact that it had gone on long enough to register on the cops’ radar was a bit disturbing.

 

The site itself was pretty calm for the location of a supervillain attack.  The line of police cars circling the area at what the force considered a safe distance, lights flashing, was the only indication that anything was happening.  It wasn’t until he had moved in close enough to touch down on the roof of the facility that he heard the tell tale crashes of battle coming from below him.

 

“Huh, that doesn’t sound too good,” he muttered, before moving.

 

Tony didn’t get very far, just landing on the ground next to the destroyed door, before a figure came flying out from the window of the story above.  He scrambled to the side, and was startled when a dark body hit right where he had been standing, glass falling all around like very sharp rain.    

 

Yep, definitely not good.

 

He knelt next to the leather-clad figure, noticing that there was a soft groaning coming from it.  It sounded like it was a man, and he was not dead.  Much better than it could have been.

 

“Are you okay, buddy?” Tony asked, reaching an armored hand to touch a shoulder.  Before his fingers touched, it was wrenched out of range as the man twisted to see who was speaking.

 

Green eyes widened in a familiar face.  Loki.

 

That explained all the leather.

 

“Oh, shit,” Tony said, quickly drawing his hand back as though it were burned through the metal.  Considering his body’s reaction last time he had been in the god’s presence, he was suddenly very, very glad that his suit had the best scent filtration system possible.  “What are you doing here, Reindeer Games?”

 

Loki coughed, a wry look crossing his beaten and bleeding face.  “Getting defenestrated, obviously,’ he said, voice dry.

 

Behind the faceplate, Tony’s lips twitched up into a smirk.  “I’d ask how it felt, but been there, done that.”  

 

A dark eyebrow lifted ever so slightly, and Loki snorted inelegantly.  He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted when another familiar villainous voice boomed out from above.  

 

“Don’t touch the Omega, Iron Man.  He belongs to Doom.”  

 

Tony looked up and was surprised to see that the figure hovering just outside the shattered window looked like it was the real Dr. Doom.  Shocking, considering the fact that the man usually just sent robots to do his dirty work.  He automatically stood, moving into a position to protect Loki, although he really didn’t know why at this point.  He just knew it was the thing to do.

 

“Oh, so I wasn’t good enough for you, baby?” he couldn’t help teasing, not taking his eyes off the metal man above him.

 

From the creaking, it sounded like Loki was moving to get up.  “I am not an Omega, and I belong to no one,” he snapped.

 

“Enough talking.”  Doom ignored the outburst, obviously getting impatient.  With a dramatic gesture, he jerked his thumb towards his chest.  “I was here first.  Stand aside, so that Doom may stake his claim.”  The last was said with a clenched fist and what was obviously a leer at Loki through the mask.

 

In the corner of his HUD, Tony saw that Loki was finally standing, although he was swaying just the slightest bit.  He was also shaking his head.

 

“Don’t do as he says, Stark,” Loki said quietly.  In the HUD, he moved closer, although he stayed a fair distance behind Tony.  

 

Tony felt a bit like he was being used as a shield, but his Alpha instincts added a pleased edge to the annoyance.  “What do you want me to do, honey?” he asked softly.  “You rejected me, so I have no claim.”

 

Loki growled something that Tony didn’t understand, most likely in Aesir, then sighed.  “If needs must, I would rather throw my lot in with you than the metal doctor.”

 

Tony felt gladness bloom in his chest.  Another Alpha feeling, he noted, which was annoying when the focus of it was so insistently refusing his role.  “That requires more than just words, you know.”

 

“What exactly would it require, Stark?”  Loki’s eyes narrowed.   

 

“Doom grows impatient,” the supervillain above growled.  “Stand aside or I will make you, Iron Man.”

 

“One minute, Tin Man.  My sweetie and I are having a little chat.”  While Doom huffed in offense, Tony thought quickly, then said softly to Loki, “Um, how far are you willing to go to prove your choice?”

 

The green eyes narrowed even further.  “What is the least amount of proof necessary, in this instance?”

 

Tony settled on a course of action.  Just the thought made his possessiveness rise, showing that it was the right choice.  “Nothing too strenuous, baby.  Follow my lead.”  Reaching a hand back so that he could curl it around Loki’s arm, he turned and pulled the god forward to stand beside him without looking away from Dr. Doom.  He was surprised when Loki did so without any resistance, only a note of wary curiosity on his features.  Tony raised his voice to address the other supervillain.  “I refuse to do that, Doom.”   

 

Metal arms crossed over the chest plate.  “And why not, Iron Man?”

 

“I already have a claim on this one,” Tony said.  

 

Doom laughed.  “You lie.  The Omega has repeatedly stated there is none.”

 

“Um, he’s the Norse God of Lies.  Of course he’d say that.”

 

Doom’s eyes narrowed behind the rectangular slits.  “He does not carry your scent.”

 

“He’s been gone for years.  You expect that to stick around?”  Tony turned to Loki.  “Isn’t that right, honey?”

 

Loki made one of those hums that could be taken either way, but he did nod.  Good enough.

 

“See?” Tony said, turning back to Doom.  “All mine.  Sealed deal.  Now back off.”

 

Dr. Doom growled.  “Sealed deal, eh?  Then why does the Omega hesitate to touch you?”

 

“What are you talking about?  Of course he wants to touch me.  Can’t get enough of me.”  That was the rub, though, wasn’t it?  Rolling his eyes, Tony raised his faceplate, finally taking in the god with his eyes instead of his HUD.  With the height gained from the suit, they were pretty much face to face, making it easy to lean in.  "Right, Loki darling?"

 

Loki allowed it, standing his ground but not moving any closer.  When Tony was so close they were sharing breath, he stopped.  At this distance, he could actually smell Loki, the scent that had been so faint this visit around surrounding him, invading his senses, and making his head swim.  It was the same scent that had permeated his penthouse for weeks after the invasion.  “This okay?” he whispered, ignoring the Alpha instincts inside that were pushing him to just press forward.  

 

Loki looked at him through unreadable eyes for a moment.  Just as it was getting awkward, the dark lashes fell to cover them and the god closed the distance.

 

Tony’s first thought was that Loki’s lips must be even more cracked than they looked, since he could taste a hint of blood.  Then the rest of all his thoughts were drowned in sensation and need, his inner Alpha screaming to _take, take, take_.  He grunted when a hand grabbed harshly at his damp hair, but the pain was forgotten when the mouth under his opened, letting him in.  Then it was all about heat.  Teeth, tongue, and taste all drew him in until he couldn’t breathe.

 

“Okay, fine, you have made your point, Iron Man.”  

 

The unwelcome voice made Tony pull back from what was undoubtedly his, interrupting his marking.  He opened his eyes, looking right into darkened green ones, and had to fight to turn away.  Absently, he noted that there was a hint of a flush along the high cheekbones, but he ignored all other signs of Loki’s enjoyment in favor of trying to fucking pay attention to their enemy.  

 

Dr. Doom still hovered, eyes laser focused on the two of them.  It was rather disturbing, actually.

 

“Does that mean you’ll stop disputing my claim now, Doom?” Tony asked, voice much deeper than he would have liked.

 

Dr. Doom glared through his eyeholes for one last moment, before ever so slightly inclining his head.  “For now.  Just know that if you lose this Omega again, Doom will be ready to take him for his own.”  Then, with a swish of green, he was gone, blasting away on his powerful jets. A multitude of Doombots followed, streaming out of the warehouse after their creator.

 

Wow. That was a lot of Doombots. No wonder Loki looked like he'd actually had trouble.

 

“Good.  Glad we’ve come to an understanding,” Tony said to his disappearing form, the hand still around Loki’s arm tightening possessively.  

 

***

 

  

Loki groaned and buried his head in his hands.

 

After Doom had bowed out gracefully due to a kiss, the night had ended up even more awkward, which was something that Loki had thought impossible.  Despite saving him, that act had also caused him undue suffering.  After Stark’s lips had left his, the man hadn’t stopped touching him, first not letting go of his arm until Captain America and Thor had arrived - and what a scene that had been, considering he had been thought dead for months - and then switching to soft touches that went everywhere.  The small of Loki’s back seemed to be a favored spot, as did the nape of his neck.  It was annoying.

 

It was even worse when Thor kept giving the two of them knowing looks, as though the oaf had any idea what was going on.

 

Loki of course ignored the fact that he hadn’t been touched that way in so long that each one sent little shocks across his skin.  After all, he saw nothing to gain from enjoying them - it wasn’t like during the seiðr cycle, when sex was pretty much a power source.  Stark had offered him a service, and he would return the favor with a boon of some kind.  No need to make it more than a simple business transaction.

 

It had taken forever for Loki to finally be left alone, and he felt grateful for no voices shouting in his ear, demanding reasons, and no constantly wandering hands that occasionally skirted the edge of decency, even in the presence of the good Captain and an unusually observant Thor.  The room that he had been given was more than adequate, the most important feature the large, soft bed that he sat on the edge of for his minor mental breakdown.

 

He had nearly methodically built himself back up when a knock sounded at the door.

 

“What?” he snarled from between his hands, then winced.  That was a bit harsher than he had meant to be, showing way too much.

 

There was a hesitant pause, then Stark’s voice came from the other side of the door.  “Hey.  Um, you doing okay in there?”

 

Loki snorted and lifted his head.  Stark had been nothing but solicitous, almost stiflingly so.  “I’m fine, Stark.  No need to worry.”

 

Another pause.  “Can I come in?”  It was said so softly, almost as though the mortal hadn’t wanted to say it.

 

Loki didn’t even take a moment to consider.  “No.”

 

“Okay.  Sorry for bothering you.”  The sigh was almost inaudible.  “Good night, Loki.”

 

Huh.  It was nice to be called by his actual name.  “Good night, Stark.”

 

Later, after washing in the private bath and changing from his ruined armor into the strangely flimsy Midgardian wear that had been left for him, he debated all the paths open to him.  His body was mostly healed from his ordeal, only superficial cuts and bruises still lingering.  Now it was only a small matter of time before he was up to full strength.  

 

And he needed that time.  Loki sighed and pulled at his hair in frustration.  By the nine, this realm was very good at complicating a simple business transaction.

 

Or, at least, what was supposed to be.

 

No, it still could be.

 

And he had time to burn.

 

Mind made up, he left his room, going off in search of Stark.

 

***

 

Tony startled out of his sleep.  He was not even sure what the noise that did it had been until it repeated.

 

Wait, why was someone knocking at his door?

 

“Huh?  What?” he managed, running a hand over his face.  

 

“Stark?”

 

Tony blinked.  “Loki?”

 

There was a slight pause.  “May I enter?”

 

Tony glanced over at the clock on his nightstand, noticing that it was one thirty in the morning.  Huh, he had actually been sleeping that early?  He shook his head.  “Um, sure.”

 

The door cracked open, framing the god in light from the other room.  He looked odd, somehow.  Smaller.

 

It took a moment to realize it was because the god wasn't wearing his armor.  It roused the Alpha, making Tony want to curl around the god and protect him.  It was a funny thought, considering the fact that Loki could easily break Tony, even without magic.

 

“I woke you,” Loki said, voice unreadable.

 

“JARVIS, lights up 30%,” Tony muttered, before blinking into the sudden dim light.  Maybe he should have gone with 20%.  “Well, yeah, you did,” he said to Loki, sitting up.  “It’s okay, though.  What did you need?”

 

Loki seemed hesitant, but he stepped into the room.  Tony felt a slight jump in his abdomen when the god turned, shutting the door with a decisive click.

 

“Um, what are you doing?” he asked.  The last word was barely out before Loki turned back toward the bed, burning eyes and the slight, secret smile suddenly making it clear exactly what he was doing.

 

Tony swallowed.  “Oh.”

 

Loki stepped forward.  “Oh, indeed.”  He moved like a jungle cat, making Tony’s Alpha instincts both stand up at attention and hum pleasantly.  “I am here to ask you a question, Stark.” Loki’s voice dropped lower.  “What do _you_ need?”  

 

The word need made Tony’s cock twitch, showing him in detail what his body thought he needed.  “What are you willing to give?” he asked cautiously.

 

Loki didn’t answer until he had climbed up onto the bed, throwing a leg over Tony so that he was straddling Tony’s hips.  “What do you want me to give?” he asked, eyes coyly covered by dark lashes as he dragged a hand up to rest on Tony’s chest, right over where the arc reactor used to be.

 

Well, that was an easy question to answer.

 

Almost without thinking, Tony reached out to grasp Loki’s hips, holding the god so that he could grind up against what he wanted most.  Looking into green eyes as they dilated to almost black, Tony smiled.  “What else?  I want everything, darling.”

 

Loki went rigid, staring, and Tony wondered if that was the right thing to say.  He was relieved when the god relaxed again, a hint of humor crossing his face.

 

“We shall see.”  Before Tony could comment, Loki bent forward to press their mouths together.  Yet again, he was lost.

 

***

 

Loki had serious doubts that the mortal knew what he was doing.  Sure, the hands had been wonderful, and that mouth when enthusiastically applied had been, well, amazing.  But it was when fingers started roaming for preparation without stopping for lubrication that Loki was pulled out of his haze.  “Stark, please use oil.”

 

Rough fingers continued to slide across his skin, running dryly around his hole.  “Um, why aren’t you wet already?”  

 

Loki sighed in exasperation and glared at the mortal.  “And why would I be?”

 

Stark stopped for a moment, then huffed an embarrassed laugh.  “Yeah, yeah, not an Omega.  Sorry, sweetheart, I guess I keep forgetting.”  

 

Loki narrowed his eyes.

 

Stark’s eyes widened, and his hand withdrew, raising with the other into the air in a gesture of surrender.  “Yes, use lube.  Got it.”

 

***

 

“Stark, what in Valhalla is that?”

 

Tony growled.  Sure, his god sounded wrecked, right on the edge of insensible, but that was a whole coherent sentence, dammit.  How could Loki be thinking through this?  He barely was.   “What does it seem like, babe?  It’s my knot.”  He pushed forward, pleased to hear Loki’s surprised groan.

 

“Oh,” Loki managed around a moan, “How odd.”

 

Tony rolled his eyes and thrust harder.    

 

He was gratified when the filthy litany started spilling out of Loki’s mouth from the added stimulation, and then he was ecstatic when his first name was one of the words within it.  It just added to the Alpha instinct’s mental chanting of _mine_ over and over again.

 

***

 

Much later, curled around a snoring Stark, Loki stared up at the ceiling, deep in thought.  Even as his body was pleasantly languid, his mind would not stop spinning in circles.

 

Had Stark really said he wanted _everything_?  Why?  Loki was not even of his realm, definitely not the expected role that the mortal seemed to expect.  

 

Also, that would be quite a bit more than the average boon.

 

Shifting focus, Loki started to draw up new plans in his mind, action based off of action ad nauseam.  It was during this familiar soothing process that he tested his level of regained seiðr, not expecting much change.  To his surprise, he found it satisfactory, if a bit low.  The activities that he and Stark had been engaged in must have replenished it much faster than Loki had thought possible.  

 

Well, that could be useful in the future.

 

Grinning widely, he fled from the bed and the mortal's embrace with a whisper of power.

 

Despite the smell, maybe Midgard wasn’t so bad after all.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, look, there I go with yet another open ending. To be continued in another square.


End file.
